


i will be chasing your starlight

by dustywords



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, because why not, carmilla fangirling over the hubble telescope has a special place in my heart, fluff with a touch of thoughtful sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustywords/pseuds/dustywords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some vampires like to tell facts about the Hubble telescope instead of classic bedtime stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will be chasing your starlight

**Author's Note:**

> i came for the broody gay vampire and stayed for the vampire talking with awe in her voice about stars to her tiny gay roommate. which is why i decided to put this headcanon of mine into words? idek. 
> 
> (title taken from the song "starlight" by muse.)

  
She has no idea how much time passed. It feels like she slept a whole year and yet, her head is still pounding, her throat feels like it’s on fire and keeping her eyes open for longer than a heartbeat seems like a herculean task.

She groans. She hates being sick. 

At least she seems to have the room to herself. Well, her phone tells her it’s around 2 a.m. as far as she can tell with her blurry vision and all. There is also no light once she closes her phone again, so she can’t see much. But it’s completely silent, save for her ragged breathing. She reaches without looking for the light switch of her nightstand lamp—and groans in pain before she closes her light-sensitive eyes again.

And then suddenly her roommate breaks the silence and startles her. “You sound like a hoarse grizzly bear, buttercup,” says Carmilla in her half-whisper. She is standing at the window again, staring at the stars.

“I am sick,” she huffs the obvious, coughs and hates everything. Her voice sounds more like a chainsaw than the voice of a human being. She breathes through her open mouth and cranes her neck to have a better look at Carmilla.

She is dressed in dark jeans and her red flannel shirt. “It is hard not to notice,” she murmurs and sighs. Her dark eyes find hers and for a moment they just stare at each other. Then, Carmilla adds the very unhelpful comment, “you look like death.”

“Har har har,” she makes, and winces in pain. “I just want to sleep and wake up like in five years when this is all over.”

“Well, no one’s stopping you,” Carmilla smiles and comes closer. Her movements never lose that feline touch and then she is right in front of her. “It would be awfully boring to listen to your snoring for such a long period of time, though.”

Laura just glares. “If you aren’t here to read me a bedtime story to help me fall asleep but to mock me, then go back and be broody over there at the window,” she waves with her hand, not meaning any of that. But her sarcasm isn’t as impressive as it usually is, her nasal voice tones most of it down. She pulls the blanket closer to her chin.

Carmilla’s smile vanishes and she looks confused. She even tilts her head. “You want a bedtime story?”

“Anything to ignore the headache and sore throat would be great,” she responds in a nonchalant way, followed by a dramatic coughing fit and, well. It seems to set something in motion she didn’t even intended to happen (not consciously, at least).

Carmilla carefully sits down on the edge of Laura’s bed and stares ahead, lost in thought. “I don’t know any good bedtime stories, I have to admit to my shame,” she shrugs and gives her a little smile. 

“I wasn’t being serious—”

“However,” her vampire roommate continues, disregarding her objections completely, “I could tell you something better than a trivial bedtime story based upon mundane ideals and half-finished fairytales.”

“Are you even trying to cheer me up here, or…”

“Scoot.”

“Won’t you get…sick?” she wonders and, yeah, awkward question.

Carmilla gives her the ‘ _you are being a tiny idiot again_ ’-look with a half-smile. “I am a vampire and don’t get pestered by human germs.”

“So vampires have their own germs?”

And there is the by now very familiar eye roll. “Just scoot over, muffin.”

Laura does what she’s told, the scowl never leaving her face. Her muscles feel sore when she moves, she feels sweaty, her fever makes her tremble and the light still hurts her eyes. She sniffs and watches how Carmilla lays down next to her with a swift motion and stares up at the ceiling. And of course she somehow managed to steal the yellow pillow again.

Laura doesn’t comment on that. She never does, because she actually doesn’t want to hear the answer to the question why her vampire roommate is so fascinated with her dumb pillow.

“My love for stars goes beyond my fascination for their light; they remind me that I am indeed no longer in that dreadful coffin and that I can go outside to stare at the night sky whenever I desire to enjoy the view.” Carmilla’s soft voice has some kind of magical abilities, because Laura closes her eyes and feels a little bit better. Maybe it has also something to do with the fact that their shoulders brush or that she can smell her lemon grass shampoo. She wonders where this is going. Another flashback session? She almost asks if she should grab her sock puppets.

“In 1990 they launched the Hubble telescope and I will never forget the time when I first got to see the pictures. I think I even printed some of my most favorite ones out…” And then she starts to explain how the telescope works, why it is so important and what role it played in understanding the space. It’s like she swallowed the Wikipedia article about that thing for breakfast one day. But she’s not talking about it in a boring, smart-ass way, no. It’s more like she’s sharing a precious story about something that means a lot to her.

So Laura listens, even if only half of the things make sense to her in her current state. She gets sleepier by each passing minute, but there is this fascinated, amazed tone in Carmilla’s voice when she talks about the space and stars (“Have you seen pictures of nebulas from space? They are a thing of beauty! I have one as my screensaver on my phone.”), and damn her if that isn’t worth fighting against the urge to fall asleep. (Which undermines the whole purpose of Carmilla’s story time, but shh. She is sick and can do whatever she wants, right?)

“One day the telescope will stop working, though,” Carmilla sighs and suddenly her tone sobers from the fascination and becomes thoughtful.

By then, Laura is almost asleep, blinking lazily at Carmilla. The warm light of her bedside lamp makes her look so young and…vulnerable. She closes her eyes again, not ready to face this right now.

“Its beauty will not lessen, nor will its achievements ever be forgotten, and yet only the pictures will remain. Just like the way you keep the memories of someone you love dearly and they passed away far too early,” the girl next to her muses. 

She could swear that Carmilla isn’t really talking about the limited time the Hubble telescope has left anymore. However, her sleepy mind is feeling only bits of the sadness she’d feel wide awake in the same situation.

“Goodnight, creampuff.” The touch of lips tingles on her cheek.


End file.
